Kitty Love
by bokhi
Summary: Manx. Weiss. Persia. Basically, this fic deals with Manx's relationships it's also somewhat of a missing scene fic...Manx contemplates on the fate of Her, Persia, and Weiss


Started September 17/01

Notes: This fic contains major spoilers for the Weiss Kruez series, and if you don't want to be spoiled, I suggest you don't read it. Also, to clear up some confusion, I'll come right out and say that it's sort of a "missing scene" fic in that it takes place after Reiji pronounces Weiss as a terrorist group but before Weiss kills him. So, basically, it's right after Persia goes after Reiji. It's a Manx fic, mostly because she kicks so much ass and never gets credit and because the idea's been sitting in my mind for a long time. 

Enjoy, and tell me how it goes, ne? ^-^

Standard disclaimers apply. 

Kitty Love

            The storm raged furiously just outside the window. She stood in the dark room, rainwater dripping off of her hair, her clothes, and pooling on the hardwood floor beneath her feet. Sighing wearily, she leaned against the wall, bracing her body as she slipped her soaking pantyhose down her legs, rolling them the proper way as she did so. She left them on the floor, and started on removing her equally soaking clothes with the least amount of trauma. Damn, they were cold. She reflexively cringed when her skin was inevitably exposed to the cool air; it was worse when the wet fabric touched a part of her body that was just getting dry and less numb. 

"Just another day at the office." Her voice rang out in the empty apartment, hollow and somewhat lonely. Her bottom lip suddenly trembled. Just another day at the office; just her last day at the office. She'd known it would have come to this; had always known, from the first day she went to work for Persia. But her notions had always been vague. In her mind, it had always been a hazy "someday," when Persia would exorcise whatever demon it was that plagued him, and he would no longer need her or Weiss. There really was no use making excuses though. She had known from the start. She had known that this was a possibility from the start; it could be one of them, or both of them, or all of them; and they'd been fortunate. She'd been fortunate, because he had spared her. He'd gone into the fire without her. 

Him into the fire, and her, left behind in the rain.

She had known from the start, known what kind of ride she was signing on.  

But it still hurt like hell.  

There was a sharp, almost sweet ache in her chest. She pressed her fingertips against the moisture trickling down her face; its warmth betrayed the fact that it really was more than a raindrop.  Quietly, she cursed at her weakness. Twice in one day. Manx was not the type of woman to cry easily; no matter the hurt, no matter the pain she was suffering inside, Manx had always made it her business to walk forward and only forward; to be strong. But now, it was so difficult to keep the tears away, as if all the tears she had held back in her life were trying to burst free. Her stomach hurt, especially where Persia had punched her. Her head hurt. Her body hurt. SHE hurt. She shut her eyes, and drew a long, shuddering breath.  For a while, there was only the sound of the raging storm outside and her quiet breathing, and after regaining her composure she finally opened her eyes, taking in her new home. 

The Kritikers had done a good job. 

The apartment was not too large or too small; when the fiasco against Takatori Reiji began, she had realised the need for a new location. She was, after all, Takatori Suuichi's secretary and, therefore, an accomplice of Weiss. 

Deciding that she needed a nice, long soak in a hot bath, she stumbled in the general direction of the bathroom, leaving her soaking clothes on the floor. She was tired, both physically and emotionally, and all she wanted to do was sleep. She turned on the water, nice and hot, and watched the tub fill up. She let herself be distracted by rippling water, contemplating whether Weiss had gotten out of the mess all right. Or alive, for that matter. 

The tub was full, and Manx deftly shucked off the rest of her clothes and settled into the bath. She would have to find them, or whatever was left of them. Despite the warmth of the water, she discovered a cold, clenched up feeling in the pit of her stomach. They were her responsibility, still, and she suddenly found herself wondering, her mind going through the possible scenarios. What of little Omi, the child Suuichi had raised as his own? She shuddered to think of him injured, lying in a ditch surrounded by Takatori's Special Forces, or perhaps he was already dead, catching a bullet in his chest as he ran. And Yohji, what of him? Yohji with his fast, devilish smile, and pretty, flattering words but with a concealed sadness always haunting his green eyes? Would he be alone, dying in the dark with only this screaming, angry storm to keep him company? What about Ken? The worst for him, she thought, would be if he knew his friends needed him, were screaming and dying, and he, unable to do anything, could only wait for death. Was he, at this moment, while she was soaking in a tub of hot water, going insane with his guilt and anguish? She found that she was also worried about Aya – Aya! Of all people, Aya with his cold distaste, hot anger and sharp rebelliousness. Cold, calculating Aya, who had become an assassin for the love a sister, a sister that needed him, lying comatose and alone in some dark hospital bed.  Shuddering, Manx sank down, almost completely underwater, shutting her eyes, trying to shut down her mind. 

It was too much, too much. 

_Oh, Suuichi, what can I do now? _

It was dangerous for her to go out and about. She could not go out to look for them herself; such an act would be suicide. But…there had to be another way, wasn't there? Both she and Persia had linked to the crime-fighting network of Kritiker. They would most certainly have the manpower and resources to look into the situation, but the question was, would they think that an isolated band of assassins such as Weiss was worth retrieving? Worth saving? 

_Calculations, Manx. _

The key, she supposed, was dangling the bait. Weiss was good – very good – at what they did. If Kritiker believed that the risk of adding Weiss to their ranks of contacts would prove ultimately more beneficial than that of possible losses…

It could work. 

_I'll make it work._

She had to. Certainly, her role as Suuichi's secretary said she must; but it was far more than that. A million things, from the shearing heat in her mind, the sharp pain in her chest that had nothing to do with her physical condition, a million things inside the woman who had taken the name Manx that could never be explained. She had to do it, because Persia could not. 

She had known that her time with Persia was over earlier that day, known the finality of his actions…known that he was not coming back. 

****

"I thank you for your long and faithful service to me…" 

No, he had had no intention of coming back. 

The duty fell onto her shoulders. 

Lurching up, she grabbed a towel and wrapped up, stumbling out of the bathtub her impromptu study area. She hastily booted up the computer, anxiously willing it to load faster as she dialled a phone number on her cell. She had to act quickly, after all. 

She hoped it would be enough. 

End Part One. 


End file.
